Weakness is a Strength
by Living in a fantasy
Summary: Finn outs her in the hallway. The campaign ad airs. Not all parents are as supportive as Burt Hummel, and Santana is running out of people to turn to. The aftermath of Mash Off, 3x06


**AN: Alright, so this week's episode of Glee was so amazing that I took a break from Nanowrimo to write this. Instead of writing over 3000 words for my novel, I wrote this. After spending one day just writing scenes about my main character being fluffy with her girlfriend, I decided it wasn't enough and I needed to write this (long) response to the episode that has been in my head since it aired.**

**Also, it convinced me that I need to marry Naya Rivera. Seriously. She is amazing.**

**So I hope you all enjoy it, though I am a bit late getting my response story out haha.**

The sound of skin on skin echoed through the room. Everyone froze. Finn's face in front of her was shocked and confused. Santana's arm fell to her side. She'd hit him. She couldn't believe she actually hit him.

"Santana that is enough," Mr. Schuester said, voice stern.

It was like all the anger drained from her in that one slap. She stumbled backwards because she could feel the tears welling in her eyes and she couldn't break down here. Not in front of everyone. "San." Brittany was beside her now, arm gently latching onto hers.

"What the hell was that?"

"Language, Finn," Mr. Schuester said, though he knew it wouldn't make a difference.

"Everyone's gonna know."

"San."

"Everyone knows already!" Finn's voice was angry now.

Suddenly everyone began talking at once, the members of New Directions staring at her and asking Finn if he was okay. Accusations were being thrown at her. Mr. Schuester was trying in vain to gain control of the room.

It couldn't be true, that the whole school knew. They would have treated her differently and besides, it didn't matter. The ad was going to air. Her parents would find out. She'd been avoiding the subject, hoping to avoid ever bringing it up with them. Now the whole state was gonna know. People who didn't even know her would see her face on the screen and know she was a lesbian.

A tear slid down her face before she could stop it. Finn was gesturing at her angrily and Santana flinched back slightly at the angry glares from New Direction. She had to get used to those, because that's how people would be looking at her all the time. A new wave of panic rushed through her at the thought. How was she supposed to face the school? How could she ever go home?

A sob rose unbidden in her throat and she raised her hand, covering her mouth and stumbling back until she was against the stage. The room was quieting down and Brittany followed her. "Santana, it's okay."

"No," she shook her head. "They're gonna know." Finn looked ready to interject again so she hurried on. "Someone overheard you, you moron!" Her voice was shaking but she'd already lost control of the situation. "A campaign ad is about to air outing me to the whole _state_!"

Finn's face dropped. "What?" His voice was airy and shocked.

"I haven't told my parents." Her voice broke then and Brittany's arm moved around her shoulder, murmuring soft words. "And now they're gonna see it. Oh my God." Voices began rising in the auditorium again but Santana didn't hear them. She turned and quickly made a beeline for the door because the breakdown was coming. She could feel it. The school was going to know. Her parents were going to know, and they wouldn't even be able to hide it in the family, because it was gonna be on TV, and then the internet, where anyone in the world could see it. Santana heard her name being called and in her rush tripped. On a normal day such a mundane error wouldn't stop her, but today was far from a normal day, and the sobs were already rising in her chest and echoing through the suddenly quiet auditorium.

Then Brittany was there, cradling her head, telling her it was okay. She shook her head against Brittany's chest and finally the blonde helped her up and got her outside.

She cried for nearly an hour at Brittany's house, not just because of the ad and the school, but in shame that everyone had seen her lose control like that. The next day at school she brushed off everyone's concern like nothing was wrong. It wasn't until the next night when she was at Brittany's house and the ad aired that everything really blew up.

"My dad always watches the news," Santana's voice was almost silent.

She lingered for a while at Brittany's but knew she had to go home eventually. She didn't even feel like herself anymore. She was Santana Lopez. She was strong; she didn't break down sobbing in front of the Glee club or shake just because she had to go inside her house. But no matter how hard she had tried to slip that mask back on, it hadn't truly worked.

Santana hesitated on the doorstep, hand hovering over the doorknob. She bit her lip and tried to steel herself. She knew she had to go in and face them. She knew that most likely, her family had watched the news and seen the ad. There was nothing she could do about it. She had to go in some time.

She took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking. She was terrified of their reaction, especially from finding out like this. What was she supposed to say to them? How was she going to face them? The dread rose in her so intensely that she felt like she was choking. She forced herself to push the door open. She paused a moment to look through the open doorway into the empty living room. The TV was still flickering, a final report on the weather flashing across the screen. Chance of showers tonight, low of thirty-eight.

She closed the door softly behind her, hand automatically rising to clench around the strap of her backpack to ground her. Her steps were slow as she made her way through the living room and towards the kitchen. She felt like she was gonna be sick.

She rounded the corner to find her Mom and Dad sitting at the kitchen table. Her Mom was staring straight ahead at nothing, but looked up as she entered the room. Her backpack slipped off one shoulder but she didn't have the motor skills to fix it, instead just clenching the remaining strap a little tighter. Her dad had his hands crossed, elbows on the table and body leaned forward. His gaze was penetrating the table and he didn't move, even as her mom abruptly stood.

She strode across the kitchen, a hard glare fixed on her face, and swept past her. The dark-haired girl turned to watch her ascend the stairs and the slam of a door followed. Wincing slightly, she turned towards her dad, who still hadn't moved. "Dad?" she croaked, voice barely audible even in the near silent room.

He looked up finally, and she resisted the urge to move backwards. His gaze was cold. Nothing was said for what felt like ages, and the tension was encouraging the Latina to either say something or retreat as quickly as she could. "How could you?" His voice was soft, and betrayed. Santana opened her mouth then closed it, not sure what to say. "How could you do this to our family?"

She swallowed thickly. "It's- it's just a stupid ad. It doesn't mean anyth—"

"Don't feed me that bullshit!" Her dad's voice rose, accompanied by a loud crash as he stood and his chair went spiraling to the floor. "What were you thinking?"

Santana did take a step back this time, averting her eyes. "I said it didn't mean anything."

"So? Is it true then? Are you a lesbian?"

"I. . ." Santana trailed off awkwardly, but before she could get another word in her dad spoke again.

"You look me in the eye and tell me you're not a lesbian."

Reluctantly, her eyes rose to meet her dad's. His gaze penetrated into her, into the depths of her soul, consuming everything. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but the lie that slipped so easily from her lips at school wouldn't seem to come now. He shook his head in disgust. "It's that Brittany girl isn't it? I always thought there was something weird about the two of you."

"Leave her out of this," Santana growled, voice low.

His head snapped around to face her. "I will bring whoever the hell I want into this. This is my reputation you're destroying!"

"I didn't ask to be put in some campaign ad!" She yelled in frustration. "You think I want my face plastered all over Ohio under some neon rainbow?"

"You should have thought about that before you decided to be a dyke."

The words stabbed deep and she felt some of the anger drain. She didn't know why she managed to be so together at school but couldn't face down her family. She wanted to say it wasn't a choice; that if she had a choice she would date guys. But she'd tried that, and it hadn't changed a thing. She hadn't been happy. She'd felt like a whore. She'd felt worthless. With Brittany, she felt something. "You don't understand."

"I don't want to hear it," he interrupted. "I can't even stand to look at you right now. Your poor mother is heartbroken."

"Why?" she bit out. "Cause her daughter's not perfect?"

"Because her daughter is blemished with sin!" he roared.

"It's not a sin." She had meant for her voice to be strong but it came out small and scared. Oh, she knew New Directions would love to see her now, cowering in front of her dad like some little girl.

"There will be no reasoning with you about this," he said, resigned. "I know that. But I won't have it in my house."

"Dad?" she asked slowly.

"Get out." His voice was calm, way too calm for a parent kicking out his only daughter.

"What?" she asked, indignation and hurt laced through her words. She took several steps forwards, the bag sliding off her shoulder and to the floor with a soft thump. "But dad—"

"I SAID GET OUT!" His hand whipped out and a second chair was sent flying to the floor, the loud crash erupting in the air. Santana jumped back, eyes wide. Her legs were shaking now too, and as her dad stepped towards her she scurried back several more steps. Her throat grew tight as her vision blurred, but she tried to hold the tears back.

"Can I…can I get some stuff, or?" she asked hesitantly.

His laugh was loud and mocking. "Get some stuff? This is my house, Santana. These are my things. So no, you can't just get some stuff. Get out of my house NOW!"

Finally unable to stop them, the tears slid silently down her cheeks. She walked backwards, eyes on her father, steps slow and shaky. Finally she turned, wobbling towards the door, which felt heavy and imposing as she tried to force it open. The streets were dark and abandoned, and the click of the door behind her felt so final that a wave of sobs was ripped from her throat.

She broke into a run, sprinting down the block. She took the turn around the corner quickly and her foot twisted beneath her. Before she could process what was happening she was already falling, sprawling across the rough pavement, hands scraping it and a sharp sting filling them.

Slowly she sat up, scooting backwards until her back was pressed against the wooden fence behind her. Her hand rose automatically to cover her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs rising from her throat. She couldn't believe it, but at the same time she wasn't surprised. She'd been putting off telling them for a reason. She shivered lightly and finally stood, arms wrapping around herself as she started walking. She forced herself to calm down, and though her throat was burning and her vision was still blurry, she managed to stop sobbing.

Santana found herself outside of Brittany's house before she knew she was going there. She hesitated a moment, but really where else did she have to go? Forcing her legs forward was hard, but not nearly as hard as it had been to go home. She rang the bell then stood back, waiting for her girlfriend.

The blond girl opened the door. "Santana." She stepped forward as she took in Santana's haggard appearance. "Are you okay?"

A sob broke through her defenses without her permission. Instantly Brittany moved forward to pull the other girl into her arms. Santana's hands came up to clench onto Brittany. Her touch was desperate and Brittany ushered her inside gently. Santana allowed herself to be deposited gently on the couch and for a moment Brittany vanished into the kitchen. Santana stared at the carpet, the feeling of being isolated and alone rising in her. Her own parents had kicked her out.

Brittany appeared moments later, glass of water in hand. Santana only managed a couple sips of water before she pushed it away. "Santana?" Brittany's voice was hesitant.

"They kicked me out." Her voice broke slightly on the words.

Brittany's hand came up to gently brush the hair from her damp face. "I'm so sorry." She folded Santana into her arms and the dark-haired girl curled closer, hiding her head against Brittany's shoulder. She was still shaking.

"What's going on?" came Rory's voice from the staircase. Santana pressed closer and Brittany turned to face the Irish boy.

"Nothing. I'm handling it."

He gazed at the crying girl a moment longer then shuffled back up the stairs. "Come on," Brittany said finally. "Let's go to bed." She pulled Santana up and led her to her room.

"I don't have any clothes," she said softly, shame coloring her words. She didn't have anything anymore.

"You can borrow some of mine," Brittany stated simply. Soon they were curled in bed, and after several hours Santana managed to fall into an uneasy sleep.

The next day, Brittany drove them to school. Neither of them spoke much, but Santana was unbelievably grateful that she had Brittany in her life. She didn't know what she would have done if it wasn't for her. "Want to stop at Starbucks for coffee?" Brittany asked. Santana nodded and they changed their route, choosing to park in the parking lot since the drive through line was huge.

Brittany led the way towards the doors. Out of the corner of her eyes, Santana noticed someone staring. Her head whipped around to see a small group of teenagers lounging against their car, all openly watching her walk past. "What are you looking at?" she snapped and stormed inside.

The duo ordered their coffees and stood in line to wait. Santana's eyes slide through the café, where there were several men reading the paper and a couple students on laptops. One table held a mother, drinking her coffee, and a young girl eating a muffin. She caught the girl's eyes and her eyes lit in excitement. "Mommy! Mommy!" She pulled on her mom's sleeve and pointed to the Latina. "That's the girl that was on TV last night! With the rainbows."

Santana's breath caught in her throat as the mother looked up and stood, taking her daughters hand. She glared at her and self-conscious, Santana nearly took a step back. "Let's go sweetie," the mom said, pulling her daughter as far from Santana as possible in the cramped café and out the door. Santana stared after them, unmoving, until Brittany pushed the warm drink in her hands, eyes sad.

"Come on."

The stares were worse at school. According to Finn, everyone knew, but the ad apparently gave them permission to stare at her. She tried to put on a fighting face, but after several hours of the whispers and the looks, she started to feel beaten down. This was what she had been afraid of. People weren't pushing her around like they had to Kurt, but they were talking about her behind her back. They were talking about the ad. Why Sue would promote a lesbian to be a cheerleader. She was a lesbian, wouldn't she be looking up the other girl's skirts during practice? Had her parents kicked her out? And of course, they all thought she deserved it. Every single one of them.

Brittany's hand slowly wrapped around hers as they walked down the hall. This only increased the stares, but it was the only thing that made her feel any better. And if she was going to be out (even if it wasn't her choice) she was going to hold hands with her girlfriend whenever she pleased.

She paused outside of the New Directions rehearsal room later that day. She could see her old teammates in there, laughing and joking. Because they could still be happy, and have a life, and hers was ruined. Bitter anger rose in her and though she was supposed to go and meet Brittany, she walked in.

Instantly the room grew quiet. She could feel everyone's eyes on her. She moved forward to the front of the room and stood in front of Finn, eyes sharp. "You said you wanted to help me because you were worried about me, right?"

Finn shuffled his feet nervously. "Uh, yeah."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Well I want help now."

He nodded. "Sure, whatever you need."

She nodded, looking pensive. "Okay," she said at last. "This is how I want you to help. I want you to build a time machine so I can go back in time and shut you up before you open your oversized pudgy mouth and out me to the entire school. I want you to stop that politician's niece from overhearing you to stop that ad from airing, to stop my parents from seeing it and kicking me out of the house!" Her voice had rose to hysterical volumes and vaguely she heard the choir door open, but she paid it no mind. She ignored the gasps at her statement and stepped closer to Finn, who looked shell-shocked. "I want you to stop my dad from calling me a dyke and telling me to get out! I want you to stop the random people who are so disgusted by me that they leave the building if I'm in it. That's how I want you to help!"

Her fists raised and she punched Finn in the chest. He grunted but didn't stop her so she did it again. By the third time the hits were weak and she was shaking again. "Can you do that, Finn? Can any of you do that for me? Because that would be really fucking helpful!"

Her legs fell out from beneath her but Finn caught her by the waist. This was the second time that Glee club had seen her breakdown, but she didn't have the energy to care. Finn carefully guided her to a chair and sat her down, but couldn't move back because she was clinging to his shirt. "I'm so sorry, Santana," he said, remorse strong in his voice.

And she knew he was. She knew he didn't want this. Finn may be an idiot, but he wasn't a bad person. That didn't make it any less his fault.

"Was she really kicked out?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my God, poor Santana."

"Santana." Mr. Schuester's voice was downtrodden but calm. She hadn't even noticed when he came in the room. "Do you have somewhere to stay?"

She nodded, sniffling, finally letting go of Finn, who, to her embarrassment, she had been leaning against to keep herself up. "Yeah. With Brittany."

"Santana," Finn said gently. She hated that everyone had to say everything to her so carefully. She hated that she had let herself get so weak that they felt like they had to be so careful around her. "I can't take back what I said, and I'm sorry. But all of us want to help. We can't change anything but we can be there for you."

She wiped her eyes. "Yeah right. You're all secretly glad this happened."

"No!" It was, to her surprise, Rachel who spoke up this time. "You may be mean, Santana, but no one deserves this. And we're a family." Rachel flinched slightly at the use of the word when Santana's eyes darkened but pressed on. "We look out for each other."

"Yeah everyone took care of me when I got pregnant, and I was a bitch to them," Quinn spoke up.

"But I'm not even in New Directions anymore," she said.

"That doesn't mean people don't care about you." Rachel's voice was firm, and for the first time Santana allowed herself to look at the group fully. None of them were looking at her hatefully. None of them were watching her with disgust or contempt. Pity? Yes. Empathy? From some of them. And with guilt, and compassion, and caring. It made her feel guilty, that after how horribly she had treated all of them, they still were willing to be there for her.

Her biggest fear had been everyone turning on her, and even after she had left New Directions they were still supporting her. Like she mattered.

"Santana!"

She looked up to see Brittany rushing into the room. "You never showed up! I thought something had happened to you." The blonde's arms wrapped around her and Santana returned the embrace, consciously pulling back slightly to give her a hesitant peck on the lips. The club's expressions didn't change and some of the tension finally left her. This was what Brittany had been trying to make her understand. That if she let them in, people would help her.

"I'm okay," she said softly as Brittany hugged her again.

The next day, she walked into school holding Brittany's hand tightly. People still stared, but quickly she and Brittany were joined by others. First by Kurt and Blaine, who were rambling to them about West Side Story; then Rachel and Finn, and Mercedes, and Puck, until the whole club was surrounding her, doing the only thing they could to protect her from the voices and the whispers.

And for the first time since she had been outed, a genuine smile was tugged onto her face, and she finally began to feel just a little bit stronger.


End file.
